Confounded, but not Dismayed
by Red Wasabi
Summary: Brawl has formed an obsession with a certain Autobot Prisoner, what happens when he finally decides to deal with it and solve his problematic fasination?


**Title:** Confounded, but not Dismayed

**Author: **Red Wasabi

**Disclaimer:** It isn't mine, but I still play with them anyway.

**Notes:** Oooo Brawl/Perceptor/neurosis I am really nervous about this one folks, please tell me if I did good or not. Sometimes I don't think I'm very good at mech smex, and I think my insecurities show sometimes! I also had no beta for this one, cause my beta has disappeared! Who knows where she's gone! Anyhow, I hope you read+review, and I really hope ya'll like it! OK...I have been informed...this story does contain rape/ kind of not consenual sex.

**Rated:** R

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Brawl gave a cold glare to the small Decepticon who dared jostle up against his frame while rations were being handed out. As the crowd surged forward he gave a loud grunt and shoved the offending mini-con to the ground. He grinned widely as he stepped over the toppled mini-con, and made sure to grind the heel of his pede deep into it's wing span. The satisfying crunch and following wail, caused a sadistic shudder to run up his back plates, he_ loved_ that noise.

A dark scowl spread across his face when the rushing crowd came to another sudden halt. The scowl melted in to a terrible smirk as an idea formed in his thought processors; without warning he elbowed the 'con nearest him in the face plates and pushed his way forward. He had places to be, and bots to see; he couldn't be bothered to wait any longer.

Brawl gave one last mighty grunt as manged to shove the last 'con in between him and the rationing station. Quickly he darted forward and grabbed six of the hot, pulsing cubes form the table—a double ration. His red optics flashed dangerously at 'cons around him as he fought his way back through the crowded rec room again; he dared them to try and stop him from taking double rations.

* * *

As Brawl moved through the nearly empty hallways a feeling that was becoming all to familiar welled up in his chassis—anxiety. Much to his chagrin this unwelcome feeling had been developing whenever he left the company of their newest Autobot prisoner. 

Brawl barely kept himself from sprinting through the heavy, formidable looking doors of the brig as they finally came into sight. The painful knot of worry relaxed instantly as his optics came to rest on _his_ prisoner's recharging form.

Brawl looked down at the six warm, pink cubes clasped tightly in his evil looking digits. Carefully he placed three of them in his subspace compartment and then proceeded to move towards the caged, recharging Autobot.

"Hey, wake-up. I brought you some fuel," he said in a loud whisper as he bent over and shook the 'bot's chipped and dented shoulder plate. "Either wake up and subspace it now, or I'm gonna take it all for me."

The dull red bot below Brawl rolled over and his optics sleepily flickered on. Bright blue optics dazedly took in the large looming figure of Brawl above him and then seemed to notice the wickedly clawed digits thrust in his direction brim with fuel.

A smile that would have sent most mechs running spread across Brawl's face, as the bot on the floor stared blankly at the pink glowing fuel. Hesitantly the bot's hand reached out and delicately took the cubes from Brawl. His optics gave them a brief once over before hurriedly sub-spacing them.

As the bot lay on the ground still half in re-charge, Brawl gave a curt nod to himself. He had done what he needed to do. Now he needed to get out of the brig cell before the morning duty guard came in and saw him. While he swiftly backed out of the cell the plasma energy bars came back down around the prisoner with a crackling menace that made Brawl smile. He _loved_ that noise too.

As Brawl moved to the brig doors, he could feel the intense stare of blue optics glaring at his back plates from the cell behind him. He ignored the twist of guilt that spiked through his spark as he typed in the door code, he was a Decepticon. He wasn't supposed to feel guilt for anything, that was a weak Autobot feeling.

He paused as his his finger hovered over the last code in the security sequence. Slowly his head craned back to glance at the prisoner who sat sitting on the floor of his cell staring almost disappointedly at him. "I'll be back later." he said stiffly, and then he was gone.

* * *

Brawl flinched as a laser seared the side of his arm plating, it was an easy shot and he had seen it coming. He should have been able to avoid it, bu his thought processors were far way from the battle simulator at hand. They were focused on the thought of his up coming brig duty. 

The sound of not so subtle snickering rang in his audio receptors as he was singed again, this time in the the leg plates. He whipped around to face the sniggering solider and openly fired at them. The terrified look on their face pates as they realized what was about to happen was enough revenge for him—for the moment at least.

Brawl snarled at the Decepticon who lay on the floor clutching at his injured pede screeching at him. An evil smile formed on his face as an equally evil idea blossomed in his neural net. "Computer, run complete battle sim. nineteen at highest level." He barked loudly as he stepped out of the simulator room, gleefully watching the horrified face of the Decepticon who dared laugh at him.

* * *

As Brawl clanked loudly through the hallway his thoughts wandered off. How had he great destroyer of Autobots, striker of terror, turned into a semi-traitor to a cause he still believed in? It baffled him he knew he shouldn't have been bring fuel to the prisoner, but something deep inside his spark compelled him too. 

Decepticon prisoners were always starved for a while, it made them more compliant, more likely to submit to Soundwave's questions during interrogation. If any 'con ever found out where the extra fuel he had been stealing was _really_ going to he'd be put straight into the brig for treason. He had never had a problem with starving prisoners before, but now the thought simulation of his—_their_ newest prisoner starving caused something to ache deep inside his chassis. And that un-nerved Brawl.

He growled lowly at a passing mini-con in the hallway, and threw his leg out to kick at them. Even the normally satisfying crunch and squeal of an injured mini-con did nothing to take his mind off—_the prisoner_ he stubbornly reminded himself. Prisoners _didn't _have names, and he certainly wasn't suppose to call them by name either.

Brawl muttered bitterly to himself as he checked his internal clock—he still had five hours before he was supposed to report to guard duty. The doors to his personal barrack swooshed quietly open and Brawl glowered at the minuet sound He had to do something about that, but later--right now he desperately needed to take a re-charge cycle.

_

* * *

_

_'A pair of warm digits dug deeply into the seam of his back plating, running sensuous pressure over already highly sensitive wires. Brawl moaned appreciatively as the bot atop him began to grind their frames and electro magnetic fields together. His optics flickered on as they reached overload together and he pulled the bot's face down to meet his. "Perceptor..." panted quietly as the smaller bot's skillful lips came crashing down on his own.'_

* * *

Brawl jerked awake with a yell. He lay trembling from overload in his berth, as he tried in vain to stop breath so raggedly. His optics shut off and instantly, the torrid images came rushing back into his thought processors. He hastily opened them again, and stared up at the dark gray ceiling of his room. 

He didn't just have an erotic dream about the Autobot down in the cells, he didn't feel anything but hatred to Autobots, especially the one down in the brig—and the fact that he couldn't let him starve had absolutely nothing to do with any of this. He decided quietly to himself. Yes, no connection, none, he would just get ready for guard duty and go through the motions as usual. Brawl checked his internal clock, and his optics widened in horror, he was two hours late!

* * *

"Nice to see you're still alive Brawl, you just decide you were too good to come on time for duty?" a Decepticon named Dead End crankily whined at him. Brawl fought the urge to roll his optics at the dark red Decepticon, he was in on mood to start a fight with this particular 'con today. 

"What, you late for you're daily wax and polish pretty mech?" He taunted back at the retreating figure of Dead End. Dead End gave one last glare in the direction of Brawl who was sprawled out in the chair next to the door.

The doors slammed shut, and Brawl rolled his optics openly this time before turning to look at the bemused prisoner. "You still got those cubes I gave you?" he asked, trying not to re-play the simulator files that he had create while re-charging.

The bot smiled at him, and opened up his subspace compartment in the side of his chassis. Brawl suppressed a wayward shudder as he watched the 'bot reach inside himself. His digits moving around with a small scrapping sound, searching for one of the pink cubes. Brawl was disturbed to discover that that small unobtrusive noise was fast making it's way on to his favorite noises list. It shouldn't have even been registering in his neural net but here he was analyzing it so he could try and reproduce it later—when he was alone.

"I don't know how to thank you for this—/" The bot looked over at him questioningly as he pulled a single arm cube from his chest.

"Brawl, my name's Brawl—and don't thank me." he said grimly as he tired to pull his face into a frown. The bot nodded blithely and open up the cube to start eating.

Brawl turned his face away form the smiling bot, the sight of his pleased face plates did things to his still flipping spark. These things shouldn't be happening to him—but--he snuck a brief glance at the bot who sat happily sipping at the pink liquid. Brawl's optics zeroed in on the way his lips formed a little bow like shape as they pressed up against the edge of the cube. The way his glossa would dart out and skillfully lick the tip of the cube.

Brawl's coolant lines began pulsing furiously as he stared in morbid fascination at the bot who sat eight feet away, obvious to the internal conflict he had created in his night guard. Brawl could almost feel that exquisite little glossa pressing up against his sensitive internal wires, and teasing him into overload.

Brawl stooped his thought processors before they began to simulate another situation, he really needed to get his mind off spark-locking. "What did you do before the War?" he asked abruptly, the bot across form him looked up with surprise.

"You actually want information from _before_ the war?" he replied to Brawl in a slightly confused voice.

Brawl nodded vigorously trying to ignore the drop of energon that had been flicked from the bot's glossa on to his chipped red chassis. Primus he was jealous of a drop of fuel, there had to be _something_ wrong with him.

"Well I first onlined in Rexon, in the year 1268xV B.R.; that was a very good year for me..." the bot chattered on as Brawl's focus wandered to the hypnotizing way the mouth plates moved on the bots dark gray face. It was finally too much for Brawl to bear, he had stood guard over this fascinating bot for the past two weeks now. His thoughts had been gradually consumed by the aching need in his spark. He _had_ to fix this problem right now.

He subtly moved his clawed digits over to the security pad and typed in the lock code. A wicked grin spread across his face, causing the bot in the cell to stumble over his words but continue. After all Brawl _did_ always have that look on his face whenever he saw him.

"Hey Perceptor," Brawl whispered lowly, the bot's optics widened in shock. Brawl had never used his name before.

"Yes Brawl?" He responded curiously as Brawl heaved himself up from his sitting position across the room.

Brawl smoothly approached the crackling energy field that surrounded Perceptor's cell, with a causal flick of his wrist rotator the energy field powered down up a low hum. "You were a kind of medic with the Autobot army weren't you?" He drawled out slowly as he moved close to the still sitting bot.

Perceptor cocked his head and nodded as Brawls surprisingly tender digits caress his should plates and then slowly brought him p to stand up in front of him. "I was more of a scientist than a medic, but yes I was competent in the field of medicine." He managed to sputter out, as he felt Brawls curved metal fingers slyly start to slip down between his shoulder plates and rub enticing circles in the sensitive area. "If you you are in need of a medic I suggest you see your own thou. I'm hardly equipt to work on anyone in here." Perceptor choked out as he fought a rising moan from escaping his vocalizer.

Brawl's optics became twin red laser points as he concentrated on the bot in front of him. He stepped forward like a stalking predator until Perceptor was pressed up hard against the back of his cell wall. "This isn't a problem that one of the Constructicons can fix. And I don't want them too anyway, I _want_ you."

Perceptor's optics widened at Brawl's statement, and at the sensation of his warm digits slowly exploring the seams of his back plates. "I don't think thats what--" Perceptor's protest was cut off mid way as Brawls lips seized his own in an intense kiss.

"Shut-up." Brawl growled heatedly as he worked his way down the seams of Perceptor's face, and down to his main fuel line on the side of his neck. Any further dissent from Perceptor was hastily stopped as Brawl began to nibble on the fuel lines in his neck, while he simultaneously ground their frames together.

Brawl whined loudly when he felt Perceptor's arms hesitantly encircle him and warily begin to rub the sensitized nodes on his back plates. Perceptor's frame shudder delicately as he felt Brawl's electro field extend and intertwine with his own. Perceptor gave a small smile as he suddenly pulsed his own field causing Brawl to mewl aloud and clutch at him. Brawl's digit was between their chassis's in a second as he hurriedly unlocked his own spark chamber, and began pawing at Perceptor's chassis lock. A loud groan ripped from

Perceptor's vocalizer as Brawl's desperate digits finally unlocked his spark casing, and he began wildly thrusting his own purplish spark into his now exposed pale blue one. The heated metal of the bot below him and his own frantically beating fuel pumps made Brawl clamor loudly as their overload began to approach.

Brawl merged roughly into Perecptor one last time and then the world seemed to stand still for the both of the as their overloads hit their frames in unison. Both bots leaned into one another as their armored plates twitched and convulsed together, and their electro fields surged back and forth into one another.

Brawl lifted one tried digit up to Perceptor's face and gently ran his hand down it. The quiet whimper that came tumbling unbidden from Perceptor's vocalizer made something inside Brawl swell with pride. He pulled Perceptor's face up into another bruising kiss before letting him go. Brawl grinned widely as Perceptor languidly slipped to the floor of his cell.

Brawl took a few steps back and the snapping plasma bars appeared again. He ignored the confused blue optics that stared up at him from behind the buzzing green bars and checked his internal clock. It was almost time for shift duty to change. Brawl laggardly walked to the security pad at the entry way to the brig. He slowly typed in the pass-code, and as the doors unlock once again, he turn to impishly wink at Perceptor who still lay in a daze on the ground. "Consider that the first of many payments you'll be making in exchange for fuel," he whispered cheekily at the bot who was fighting to stay awake. "I'll be back tomorrow."

Brawl stepped neatly out of the brig and nodded blankly at the solider coming down the hall to relive him. He had done it to get the bot out of his system; but the thought of making Perceptor pay with his body, for the fuel he was stealing for him, gave Brawl a fiendish shudder. He certainly would enjoy collecting his _'payments_' from now on.

* * *

**AN:** So whatda ya think? 


End file.
